


you needed me for to slay your dragon, but we both need dragons too

by Shadowcrawler



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Gen, M/M, Quests, Rescue Missions, Skimmons Week, Villain Death, dragon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4915558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcrawler/pseuds/Shadowcrawler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a dragon begins terrorizing the once-peaceful kingdom, Sir Trip and Skye the royal handmaiden find themselves called to heroism.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you needed me for to slay your dragon, but we both need dragons too

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this...sometime in early season 2? For three reasons.
> 
> 1) My friendgroup agrees that Antoine Triplett is a true knight.  
> 2) My friendgroup agrees that Skimmons is a thing and FitzTrip should have been a thing.  
> 3) Dragon!Ward is funny to me.
> 
> I've only just finished it now because the Warehouse 13 AU I was going to post is late and even though my week has been shit, I'm determined to post something for Skimmons Week. This is, um, a loose interpretation of day 5: historical AU.
> 
> JULIA LOOK I POSTED IT.

Once upon a time, there was a great king named Philip who presided over a peaceful, happy kingdom. His nobility and kindness created strong loyalty amongst his people, and he had a battalion of brave knights to protect them. Sir Grant Ward and Sir Antoine Triplett were two of his best, though they were as different in temper as night and day. Sir Ward was steadfast and devoted to his king, but he had few friends, as he was consumed with his duties and often gruff and unpleasant when forced to interact with others. On the other hand, Sir Triplett – or Trip as he was often called – was kind and friendly towards everyone he met and thus well-liked.

The king and his wife had a daughter, Jemma, who was very intelligent and curious as well as beautiful. She read voraciously, wanting to learn all she could, and found living things most fascinating. Every creature she encountered had to be studied and examined at length.

The royal tinker had a son, Fitz, who was about Jemma’s age and had an aptitude for creating mechanical inventions that surpassed even his father’s. Fitz and Jemma had been dear friends their entire lives and spent many hours in the workshop together, building and testing Fitz’s creations.

When Jemma was seven summers old, the head of the king’s guard discovered a girl about her age stealing food from the kitchens. But rather than punish her, the king took pity on the girl, who seemed to have no family and called herself Skye, and took her in as Jemma’s handmaid. The girls were inseparable from then on. Skye turned out to be just as interested in machines as Fitz was, so the three of them worked well together.

Fitz took on the position of tinker once his father had grown too old, although he preferred to work on his inventions rather than repair armor or weapons. Having to work on Ward’s armor especially irritated him, as Ward always seemed to be in a hurry and never thanked him. Trip, on the other hand, smiled at him every time he came to the tinker’s shop and offered him a bit of extra money for his efforts, as if to apologize for Ward’s brusqueness. Fitz found himself almost looking forward to Trip’s visits. Trip had a handsome smile and kind eyes.

So life went on in the kingdom. All was well, for a time.

Then word started to spread of a strange, dark beast seen in the sky at twilight, nighttime, and early morning. Of sudden, unexplained fires in the countryside. Of entire herds of sheep slaughtered and scorched in their pens. The people became nervous and fearful, and even though the king sent out his knights to patrol the places where the unnerving events had happened, talk persisted. Some began to whisper about a dragon that lived in the dark woods on the edge of the kingdom. Those woods were said to be pitch-black even in the daytime and full of dangerous monsters, and no one went near them unless they had a death wish or went wrong in the head. Even experienced knights would have a hard journey ahead if they attempted to travel in the woods. Most people had a story about their mother’s cousin or their uncle’s best friend who’d disappeared into the woods, never to be seen or heard from again. Even if it was likely untrue, it made for a good story to frighten children into behaving and a likely candidate for the source of the mysterious beast.

Jemma was only a little frightened by the talk, and far more curious. A real dragon hadn’t been seen for many years before she, or even her father, were born. She consulted her books for hints on what to do. Several books in the castle library contained passages on dragons, though they were largely children’s rhymes or obviously fictitious or sensationalized accounts. But one small paragraph in a bestial encyclopedia suggested: Dragonsbane comes with an arrowhead made from a special kind of crystal called terrigen.

Having never heard of terrigen, she scoured her books for more information. This proved to be nearly as difficult as searching for the information about dragons – but finally she discovered that it was a rare stone that only melted in precise temperatures and glowed blue in the darkness.

“I’ve found it!” she exclaimed happily, running into her bedchamber where Skye was pretending to polish the mirror (really making ridiculous faces at it). “The way to defeat the dragon! Although I wish we didn’t have to kill it, I’d very much like to study it, but I suppose the people won’t truly feel safe until it’s dead. Seems a shame to just dispose of the first living dragon in generations, but perhaps I can study its body anyhow—”

Skye laughed. “Jemma, stop. What did you find?”

“Oh, right. Well!” Jemma told her about her discovery, unable to stop herself from bouncing a bit in excitement.

Skye didn’t mind though. “You’re brilliant!” she said, grabbing Jemma’s hand in excitement, then quickly dropping it when she realized what she’d done. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“Don’t apologize! We’re both excited, with good reason,” said Jemma. She smiled widely, her eyes bright. “I must go tell Trip! Although,” she added, frowning, “I don’t know where to find terrigen crystals. The book says they’re very rare.

“I think I can find them! I saw them in the woods sometimes, when I was younger.”

“Younger?”

“I grew up in the woods.” Skye shrugged.

“The woods?” squeaked Jemma. “But what about…the monsters?”

Skye laughed again. “There really aren’t _that_ many monsters in the woods, you know. And it’s not that hard to avoid them. Mostly they’re just dark and lonesome.”

“But the _woods_!” said Jemma, her eyes filling with tears. “You poor thing!” Now it was she who grabbed Skye’s hands tightly.

“I survived,” said Skye idly. “The king took me in, and now I have you.” If her cheeks darkened a bit at this statement, she tried not to let it show.

“You do,” said Jemma, reaching to stroke Skye’s hair. They’d played with each other’s hair dozens of times throughout their childhood, but somehow it felt different now. After a moment, she felt awkward and pulled it back. “Er…I don’t suppose you remember many details of the monsters you did see?”

“Oh, my lady,” said Skye (she never called Jemma “my lady” except when joking with her), “I’ll tell you everything I remember.”

* * *

 

When they shared their discovery with Fitz and Trip – who wasn’t much older than any of them and had become quite fond of the princess and her handmaid as well as the tinker – Fitz was intrigued.

“I’ve been experimenting with heat-controlling devices,” he said. “I can probably get it hot enough to melt the crystals if you can find some.” His expression darkened. “I suppose that’s…not likely.”

Trip smiled. “I’m not scared of a few monsters. That’s what I’m trained to do, protect people.”

“Skye says she can find the crystals,” chimed in Jemma.

“Oh?” Fitz raised an eyebrow.

“I know my way around the forest.” Skye shrugged and didn’t offer more information.

“I’d have to come with you,” said Trip. “If I allowed one of the king’s household to go into the forest alone, he would never forgive me.” Skye had bristled but then visibly calmed at his explanation.

“All right, we’ll leave three sunrises from now.” She nodded, as if steeling herself to the task ahead. “That’ll be enough time for me to smuggle enough food for both of us out of the kitchens. It won’t be enough for big meals, but it’ll do.”

Fitz and Jemma threw themselves into their work, while Skye returned to her old food-smuggling habits. Trip’s own supply of food contributed to their stock, and he borrowed Jemma’s books in order to memorize every description of the crystals that she’d found. There was an air of excitement amongst them, even while the rest of the kingdom buzzed with anxiety.

On the appointed day, they gathered to see Skye and Trip off. “We’ll be back soon,” promised Skye, holding Jemma tightly in an embrace as Jemma fought back tears. She kissed her mistress’ hand and then accepted Trip’s, helping to boost her up onto the horse behind him. Trip nodded farewell at both Jemma and Fitz, and then they were off. Behind them, Fitz quickly led Jemma into the workshop to distract her from her fear for Skye.

* * *

 

Skye and Trip rode quickly, sticking to the outskirts of civilization and talking only when they were mostly out of earshot. Trip never asked her about her knowledge of the forest, but she offered it once they could see it in the near distance.

“I grew up there,” she said.

Trip said nothing in reply, only listened.

“It wasn’t that bad,” she continued. “I learned how to take care of myself. And it’s useful now. I always kind of wanted to be a hero.”

“I’d say you are,” Trip said. “It’s not every handmaid who’d volunteer for something like this. You’re brave.”

“As are you.” Skye grinned. “Not every knight would volunteer to escort the brave handmaid into the dark, scary forest.”

“Well, I couldn’t let you go off on your own. Not with our princess waiting for you.”

Skye sat up, aware of the meaning behind his words. “I suppose she is.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” said Trip gently. “Love is nothing to be ashamed of.”

After that, Skye was quiet until they reached the edge of the forest.

It was midday, but within the forest, shadows seemed to move of their own accord. It was unsettling even to the two of them. They stopped and dismounted, and Trip didn’t tie the horse in case she needed to escape. “She’ll be waiting for us when we return,” he said, stroking her neck. The mare whuffed in his face affectionately.

They solved the question of what to do with the saddlebags by tying one each around their waists. It was a little cumbersome, but seemed like the most reasonable option. Trip built a small fire and, taking out one of the torches he’d brought, lit it. Then, with a steeling glance at each other, they stepped into the darkness of the forest.

At first, nothing out of the ordinary happened to them. Trip still seemed on edge, gripping the torch tightly, but Skye relaxed, taking the lead. She walked confidently, head high and feet sure. “We shouldn’t have to go too far in,” she called back to him. “I remember the crystals being pretty obvious near the edge of the forest.”

Trip didn’t answer, but walked closer to her.

Everything was quiet as they ventured deeper into the forest, until suddenly a dark shape rumbled out of the bushes some distance in front of them and, roaring, charged.

“Get down!” yelled Skye, pushing Trip to the ground so suddenly that he dropped the torch and it was snuffed out.

The creature roared past them, and after a moment Skye whispered, “They’re sensitive to light. It upsets them. I’d forgotten about that. I never used lights in here.”

Trip sighed. “I guess we’d better not relight the torch then?” He didn’t sound too unhappy though.

“Sorry,” said Skye. “But the crystals glow, and if we stick together we should be fine.” She slipped her hand into his so they wouldn’t lose track of each other. Trip squeezed her hand to let her know he wasn’t upset with her.

They continued, and after a while it started to feel as if their journey into the darkness would never end. “I thought it would be closer than this,” said Skye, sounding uncertain for the first time.

“We’ll find it,” Trip reassured her. “We’re doing all right.”

But they kept walking, until they were both tired, and finally they lay down against a tree to eat and rest for a while.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Skye as they both dropped off to sleep. Trip squeezed her hand again.

When they awoke, it was dark. “I think it’s still nighttime out there,” whispered Skye, “but I’m not sure. It…it used to be easier to tell.”

“We’ll be all right,” murmured Trip. “You said they were found under trees?”

“Yes.” Skye’s voice sounded very small.

“Then we’d better pay close attention to the trees.”

They walked for what could’ve been an hour or two, or half the night, before finally Skye exclaimed, “There!” She rushed towards a telltale blue glow several spans away.

“Skye, wait!” hissed Trip, but she was almost running now. She had let go of his hand, and all he could do was jog after her.

A large, moving shape burst out of the darkness with a snarl. Skye yelped, Trip pulled out his sword and ran faster, and for a long moment everything was shrieking and noise and confusion.

After the noise died down, there was another long moment of heavy breathing and gasping. Then Trip panted, “I think I killed it. Are you okay?”

“I think so,” said Skye. “I—I didn’t think about it being attracted to the light, I got excited. Thank you.” She hugged him, and they stood there for a moment, glad to be alive.

“I would never forgive myself if I didn’t protect the girl the princess loves.”

Skye stiffened. “Oh, but—but I’m not.”

Trip laughed breathlessly. “Then you’d better talk to her about that, because if I know anything about love, you definitely are.”

Disentangling herself from him, she hugged herself in the dark. “We’d better get the crystals and get out of here,” she said awkwardly.

The crystals were not heavy at all and slipped into Trip’s bag easily, the glow stifled by the cloth. Then, taking hands for strength, the two set out, back the way they had come.

It took, by their calculations, a day and a half to reach the edge of the forest. They slept as little as possible, a few hours at a time beneath bushes. Their goal was to return as quickly as possible – the entire kingdom depended on them.

They returned just as twilight was beginning to kiss the earth, the stars twinkling faintly in the sky. The streets were quiet. The few people they did pass by trembled and looked at them like frightened animals before hurrying along in their business. “Seems like we couldn’t have gotten back soon enough,” said Trip, and Skye nodded, gripping tightly to his waist.

When they reached the tinker’s workshop, the moon had appeared and was rising in the sky. While Trip tied his horse, Skye called, “Princess? Fitz? We’re back!”

Everything was quiet for a moment, and then a horrible wailing noise came from inside the closed shop door. “Fitz? Jemma?” Skye couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice. “Trip!” He was immediately by her side, forcing the door open. Skye ran inside.

Jemma lay on the cot in the back of the shop, sobbing weakly. They were thick and dry, as if she had no more tears but could not stop crying regardless. “My lady? Jemma?” whispered Skye, dropping to her knees to take Jemma’s hands in hers.

“He—he’s gone,” gasped Jemma. “It t-took him. I couldn’t do anything, I screamed, I tried to—to throw things at it, but it just…” Another series of violent sobs racked her body as Skye took her in her arms.

Eventually they managed to coax the story out of her. She and Fitz had worked tirelessly to finish the machine while they’d been gone, and the work had gone quickly. They’d been nearly done, before Fitz realized he needed more nails. “It was so ridiculous,” hiccupped Jemma, laugh-sobbing when she reached this point in the story, “he usually keeps meticulous counts of everything.” But run out of nails he had, and he had left just as the stars were starting to emerge. Jemma had thought nothing of it, until she’d heard shrieking and ran outside to see Fitz being carried off in the talons of a giant black dragon, flying towards the mountain on the far side of the dark forest. For a moment she’d been too shocked to do anything, and then she’d run along behind the dark shape taking off, throwing rocks and wailing like an animal in the hopes that someone, anyone, would come and help him. But the king’s guards, already stretched then, arrived to find only the princess collapsed on the ground sobbing. That had been only two nights ago, early the first evening that Skye and Trip had been gone.

Jemma had finished the machine by herself, driven by willpower more than anything else. “It should work,” she murmured, her energy spent and her words almost forced out. “You might test it before you make the arrowheads themselves.”

“We’ll test it right now,” said Trip, going over to the machine and, after inspecting it for a moment, lighting the necessary fire.

Skye stayed next to Jemma for a moment. “We’ll get him back,” she promised, stroking Jemma’s hair gently, as if she might shatter beneath her fingers. Jemma whimpered. Before she lost her nerve, Skye pressed a kiss to the princess’ forehead before moving over to assist Trip.

They held their breath while the machine shuddered and heat up with the crystals inside, and nothing happened for what seemed like an eternity. But finally a glowing blue liquid dripped from the machine in a steady stream. Skye yelped and hugged Trip in her excitement, and Trip’s smile, so rare in the last few days, graced his face again.

* * *

 

They worked quickly, tying the glowing blue arrowheads to shafts in an awkward, makeshift way. “It doesn’t have to look nice,” said Trip, “only kill the bastard.” Since their return, he had been single minded, tireless, barely speaking to Skye except in service of their mission.

In the end, they had four arrows. The sky was just lightening, but neither was tired. Their need to slay the dragon, to rescue Fitz, carried them forward. Jemma slept, and they didn’t have the heart to disturb her. Even when they were ready to leave, she would not wake. “We can’t leave without a note,” said Skye, her voice shaking. Trip nodded and rummaged around before finding a piece of parchment and a pen.

Skye could write, but she didn’t often and her scrawling was nearly illegible. So Trip wrote the note, his penmanship elegant and his hand steady as Skye talked. It said, _Jemma, we will bring him back. And I will bring you the dragon’s heart._

So, with no fanfare and only their own determination driving them, they set out, planning to skirt the edges of the forest until they reached the mountain.

They rode until Skye was almost falling off the horse. Then Trip made them stop. “I can go a little longer,” murmured Skye, fighting to keep her eyes open.

“No you can’t,” said Trip pleasantly, lifting her down off the horse as if she weighed nothing. He pulled a blanket from his pack and wrapped it around both of them. Skye didn’t have the energy to protest, falling asleep almost immediately. When they woke, the sun was dipping low in the sky. They couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours, but they knew they must go on. Fitz, and the kingdom, depended on it.

They stopped only for food and a few hours of sleep at a time. During one of these short stops, Skye said to Trip, “I think we should try to get there during the day. I think it sleeps during the day. We’ve only seen it at night. Maybe if we find it while it’s asleep, we won’t even have to really fight it.”

Trip chuckled. “You’ve definitely got a plan there. I’m all for not actually having to fight the damn thing. Might not be a popular opinion, but hell, I’d just like to be done with it quickly. Make sure Fitz is safe, and other people.”

“You’re a good man,” replied Skye.

“And you’re a good woman.”

From then on they were careful about traveling at night, watching the sky for any movement. Once or twice Skye thought she caught a glimpse of the beast, but she couldn’t really say whether it was real or her own exhaustion and fear playing tricks on her mind.

Then, after enough days that they’d lost count, they reached the base of the mountain. Night was only a few hours old, so they let the horse and themselves rest while they waited for the sun to rise. The trees sheltered them, but also kept them from seeing the sky, and just before the sun rose they heard a great rushing noise above them and glanced at each other. Neither said a word, but they knew that the beast had returned to its home. Their time would come very soon.

Not until the sun was climbing high in the sky did they venture towards the cave at the foot of the mountain, where the beast presumably slept. Trip had the arrows secure on his back, and Skye carried the bow. They had decided that Skye would call the beast out while Trip hid and waited for his shot. “I’m not the best shot with a bow,” he’d said, “but I figure I can get this job done anyway.”

As they’d planned, Skye walked out and put on the façade of a lost, frightened damsel. “Hello?” she called, her voice shaking. She called directly into the cave in the hopes that the beast would hear her and soon come roaring out. “Is anyone in there? I’m lost, I need help! Anyone?”

She paced around the entrance, calling plaintively, for a long time, but to not avail. Finally, frustrated, Skye whispered, “Trip, I think we have to go in there.” Trip came to her side and nodded, his face grave.

They stood close together and walked into the cave. Before their eyes adjusted, they moved slowly, almost agonizingly slowly, to ensure they would not stumble or fall in the darkness. It seemed to go on and on until Skye feared they would never reach the end, but just keep tiptoeing on into the darkness forever.

Then, suddenly, they hit a wall of stone.

“What?” gasped Skye. “No, this isn’t possible!” She brushed her hands frantically against the wall, as if hoping that it would suddenly disappear.

Trip was quiet, thinking a moment. “Maybe it’s a door,” he said finally.

“A door?” Skye sounded almost accusatory. “Dragons can’t open doors!”

“Maybe it’s got someone to open the door for it.”

“Someone working _with_ it? A person?” Skye’s voice shook.

“Maybe.” Trip put his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe that’s why it took Fitz. The last person was…dispatched.”

Skye shuddered. “So how do we get inside?”

“I guess we have to wait for the dragon to leave, so whoever is in there will open the door.” Trip guided her over to the wall of the tunnel and had them both sit on the cold stone floor. “Sleep now. There’s nothing else we can do, and we could both use the rest.”

They did, only being jolted awake by the screeching of stone scraping against itself. Trip nudged her up to hide in the shadows, the only hiding place they had. Their eyes fixed on the door as it creaked open, waiting to see what would emerge.

Whatever they expected to see, it wasn’t a tall, strong-looking man who didn’t look like a frightened servant at all. He moved like a confident predator, not someone kidnapped by a dragon. He didn’t even glance around in the darkness before dropping to his knees and, in the most horrifying thing either of them had ever seen, his body began to change.

He groaned so deeply that it sounded like it came from outside him, writhing as his body grew, elongated and sprouted talons – scales – _wings._ Skye stood rooted to the spot, shocked, and it was only when Trip grabbed her arm and dragged her through the stone doorway that she moved. They huddled on the backside of the door, listening to the howls and roars outside. Then finally, there was one last growl and the door was shoved shut violently with a creaking slam. The heavy footsteps of the dragon thumped away out of the cave.

Trip and Skye, their eyes adjusting to the brightness of the room they found themselves in, blinked at each other, barely breathing. After several long moments, Trip said, “Well, that sure wasn’t what I was expecting.”

* * *

 

For a while, they didn’t quite dare move, though they knew logically that the dragon – or man, or whatever it was – was gone. Their eyes darted around the large room lit by a roaring fire in one corner – it was sparsely decorated, with a chair by the fire, a grand-looking bed at the opposite corner of the room, and a collection of furs at the foot of the bed. And curled up in the furs was…

“Fitz!” Skye exclaimed.

He looked asleep, but even when they shook him and yelled as loudly as they could, he would not waken. “Magic,” said Trip, frowning. “The dragon must have put him to sleep so he wouldn’t try to escape before it returns.”

“I guess you were right,” said Skye shakily. “It needs him to…open the door, I guess. But not for anything else.” She laughed suddenly. “This seems like something out of one of Jemma’s fairy tale books. Do we have to kiss him to wake him up? True love’s kiss?”

Trip looked thoughtful. “We could try it.”

Skye laughed again. “You’re the knight in shining armor, you should try it. I’m not kissing him, he’s like a brother to me.”

Trip smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and moved to Fitz’s head, reaching to stroke the lock of curly hair that fell across the young man’s forehead. He stared down at Fitz for a while. Skye watched him, wondering. Then it dawned on her that Trip was nervous because he _was_ in love with Fitz. “It’s okay,” she said, trying to be reassuring. “Try it.”

Trip sighed, but there was a chuckle at the end of it. “I didn’t figure myself for this type of knight,” he joked, and then he leaned down and kissed Fitz on the lips.

The kiss lasted a few moments, and when it had ended Skye searched Fitz’s face for any movement. But nothing had changed.

Frowning, Trip looked at her. “Maybe you should try it?”

“If _your_ kiss didn’t work, mine would be even less helpful,” said Skye.

Trip sighed again and kissed Fitz’s forehead before standing up. “We’ll have to think of something else,” he said. “But now we’d better prepare for when that thing comes back. We’ll rescue Fitz once it’s dead.” Skye put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly, and he smiled at her with sad eyes.

They explored the room as best they could, finding not much beyond what they’d seen when they came in. Trip checked the arrows in his quiver and picked up the bow from where he’d dropped it. Skye paced around and felt useless – there didn’t seem much use for an untrained handmaid now.

Finally, they sat on the floor, watching the flames flicker and cast shadows around the room. Their reverie was only interrupted by a cough.

Both jumped to their feet, turning first to the door and then to the pile of furs. There was Fitz, blinking awake, stretching, and looking confused.

“Fitz!” Skye ran to embrace him. At any other time Fitz would’ve fought his way out of it, but he was still dazed and merely blinked. “You’re alive!” she continued.

“Wh- I don’t know what’s – Skye? Sir Triplett?” Fitz shook his head, as if he were trying to clear it.

“You can call me Trip, remember?” Trip said with a shy smile. “We’re, uh, we’re here to rescue you.”

“I thought…I thought this was all just a horrid dream,” murmured Fitz. “The dragon, he… I don’t remember what he did, but I think I’ve been asleep for a while. My head… Ward!” He twitched. “It’s Sir Ward! He’s the dragon!”

Skye and Trip looked at each other, eyes wide, then at Fitz. “What?”

“He’s – he’s the dragon! He changes into the dragon and leaves this cave every night. I don’t know where he goes but he put some kind of spell on me so I wake up when he returns. He needs me to open the door.” Fitz attempted to struggle to his feet. “We have to leave, he’ll be back soon!”

Skye held him down gently. “You can’t leave right now,” she said gently. “You’re weak from not eating for days. Anyway, we can’t leave either. We have to kill the dragon before it – he – hurts anyone else.”

Fitz gasped. “Kill him? But he…”

“We’ll talk to him first,” said Trip grimly. “But I don't think he’ll want to talk. Ward’s always seemed a little off to me. I don’t think he’s interested in peace.”

Skye still looked shocked. “Ward… I always thought he was grumpy but…a dragon? I can’t believe it.”

“He hasn’t said much to me,” said Fitz. “I’m just supposed to let him in when he comes back. I haven’t asked where he goes. I was too frightened. But I know it’s Ward.” He looked ashamed. “I’m sorry I’m a coward.”

“You’re not,” said Trip, so fiercely that Fitz’s eyes widened. “You’ve survived. That’s very brave.” He hesitated, then put his hand on Fitz’s shoulder. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment, neither saying a word, and Skye looked away. She suddenly felt as if she were intruding on something private.

She busied herself with inspecting the other side of the cave, although she knew she wouldn’t find anything new. She tried very hard not to listen to the two men, who were talking quietly. Then Trip said, louder, “We need to get you two to safety, you’re completely untrained. I won’t have you joining this fight.”

“We won’t leave you!” Skye protested, and Fitz agreed, “What if he hurts you?”

“You’re both brave, but foolish,” said Trip. “I promised the princess you would come home safely. I couldn’t forgive myself if I put either of you in danger.”

Skye frowned and begins to protest again, but then they hear it. The roaring, the stomping. They looked at each other, terrified. “Go under the bed,” urged Trip. “Maybe he won’t see you there.”

“You and Skye go under the bed,” said Fitz, standing up. “He’ll think nothing is wrong if I open the door for him. You could surprise him.”

Trip nodded and he and Skye slid under the bed just as a furious pounding started on the door. There was a series of horrifying groans and moans from outside, one of which sounded like “ _Opeeeeeennnn._ ” Trip and Skye shuddered, and Fitz hurried to open the door

Ward, mostly human, staggered in. “Sleep,” he growled, and Fitz staggered over to the pile of furs and collapsed. Skye breathed in sharply, but Trip covered her mouth with his hand and shook his head, holding a finger to his lips. She nodded.

Ward stumbled over to the chair and, with a sigh, fell into it. Trip and Skye waited until they heard him breathing deeply before they slipped out and Trip went to stand over him, sword pointed at Ward’s throat. “Wake up, traitor,” Trip said, his voice steely.

“I am no traitor,” replied Ward, opening his eyes slowly. “Merely someone who longs for this kingdom to reach its full potential.”

“How?” Trip asked. “Our king is noble and good-hearted. We trade with every neighboring kingdom and known as kind and generous.”

Ward scoffed. “We could be so much more! If Phillip would only see that strength is more important than nobility, we could overpower other kingdoms and take them for ourselves. We could be powerful and feared.”

“I see,” said Trip. “You’d rather we be feared than well-liked.”

“I would. And that’s why I taught myself spells to make myself stronger. When the people see that the king can do nothing to protect them against the dragon, then they will turn on him. And then, I will take his place – and perhaps his daughter too.”

“You won’t!” cried Skye, so angry that she forgot to hide. She stood up and shook her fist at Ward. “We’ll stop you!”

“Will you?” Ward looked almost amused. “With what, handmaiden? His sword and your fists? What good will those be against dragonfire?” And with that, he began to speak in a language neither of them understood, until his speech became groans and roars and his body began to change. Startled, Trip staggered back as Ward’s body changed into the black dragon. He scarcely had time to grab his shield and hold it up before Ward roared and swiped at him with long, menacing claws.

Skye saw that Trip was in danger, and would have no chance to draw the bow with Ward’s attention on him, so she shrieked, “Why don’t you leave him alone and come after me!”

Either by sheer surprise or dumb luck, Ward glanced over at her and then lunged, which gave Trip enough time to notch an arrow and shoot it. It lodged itself in Ward’s side, and the beast howled before turning back to Trip. One of Ward’s swipes caught Trip’s left arm and it dropped, bloody and useless, to his side.

Skye watched with wide eyes. She couldn't do anything…could she? Then she glanced down and saw one of the arrows under the bed. It must have fallen from the quiver. She reached for it and called, “Come at me, you bastard!” before charging for Ward.

She intended to plunge it into his neck, but his head moved fast enough that she accidentally caught him in the eye, which sent blood spurting and made him screech. It was a terrible noise – Skye wanted to cover her ears, but there wasn’t time. “Trip, his heart!” she hissed.

Trip, half-blind from dragon’s blood that had sprayed in his face, clutched for his remaining arrows and shoved them directly into Ward’s heart. With a deafening roar, Ward shuddered and reared back, smashing the chair as he fell and writhing as the crystals took effect. Trip and Skye found themselves unable to look away as the dragon’s body convulsed, slowed, and then finally stilled, his final roar ending in a pitiful gurgle.

Everything was still for a long moment. Then Skye asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’ve been better,” grunted Trip, arm still bleeding. “But I’ll live. Fitz?”

“Still asleep. But we know how to break the spell now,” said Skye with a grin. “So go on, lover boy.”

With a laugh that sounded like it took more effort than it ought, Trip limped over (with Skye’s help) to kiss Fitz again. This time it took much less time for him to blink awake. “He’s dead!” Fitz said, staring in awe at Ward’s body.

“Thanks to Trip,” said Skye.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” replied Trip.

“You’re bleeding!” Fitz reached for Trip’s arm, then stopped, looking as if he might cry. “You need to bandage that!”

“Worried about me?” Trip asked playfully.

“Of course I am,” snapped Fitz, then looked embarrassed. “Look, he slept in this bed. We’ll use the blankets.”

Working together, he and Skye cut strips of blanket to bandage Trip’s wounds as best they could. “We’ll have to get you to a healer as soon as we can,” said Fitz, “but that’ll have to do for now.” He put his hand on Trip’s arm. “You were…you were so brave. You came to save me. How can I thank you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind another kiss where you were awake this time,” joked Trip. “Only if you want—” Fitz’s lips interrupted him.

Skye busied herself with Trip’s sword and the dragon’s corpse. She had her own promise to fulfill, after all. It was messy work, but after all, she hadn’t lived on her own in the woods as a child without learning how to do such things. Finally she cut the heart free, happy to see that it was mostly intact – it seemed that Trip’s aim had not quite been true after all, but he needn’t know – and wrapped it in a strip of blanket before stowing it in her pack.

No one knew what to do with the body. “We can’t take him with us,” said Fitz. “Right?” Indeed, it would take far more than three people and one horse to remove the dragon from the cave.

Trip shook his head. “We know what Ward’s plan was, but no one else does. But he’s not a threat anymore, and there’s no point in trying to prove what we all saw.”

“Good riddance,” muttered Skye.

So they left Ward in the hidden room, the dying fire casting eerie shadows around his body. The stone door swung shut behind them, and they returned to Trip’s horse, all three quiet.

When they returned a few days later, it was not to great fanfare – indeed, Trip doubted anyone had noticed their absence. “Unless the princess told anyone we were gone, we wouldn’t be missed too much,” he said.

But Jemma greeted them with enough enthusiasm for the kingdom, tears streaking her sweet face as she ran to embrace first Fitz, then Trip. “I thought, I thought I would never see you again,” she murmured to her friends. Then she turned to Skye, her face a hundred questions. “Skye, I…” she said, then fell quiet, as if afraid.

Skye answered all of them when she pulls her close for a kiss. “Do you think you can love a wild girl from the dangerous, dark woods?” she teased.

“I don’t think I could avoid it,” Jemma whispered, kissing her again.


End file.
